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[Rough Draft] Chapter 64: The Unyielding Grip of Winter
The second day of the ice witch’s slumber.
The southern lands of Lafeara came accompanied by the warm southern sea breeze. The estate of Viscount Dax Linby was a paradise of vineyards serenaded by the passing cries of geese migrating towards warmer lands beyond.
A tired Colonel Isaac and his weary steed slowed from their relentless gallop before the white granite pillars of two white lions, paired on either side of a black, witch-steel gate, crowned with sharp spear-like heads.
The entirety of Linby’s lands was similarly secured from trespassers with passing guards who monitored its length. The six men were guarding the gate at which Isaac had arrived stepped towards him with care, noting his uniform and visage with a nod of familiarity.
“Colonel Isaac,” the guard’s leader, Captain Martin, stepped through his squadron to take hold of the half-witch’s panting steed. “You’ve come quite a long way in rather a hurry, haven’t you? Why don’t you come down, Colonel, and rest a moment? This poor beast will collapse if you continue any further.”
Isaac gripped and leaned against the pommel of his saddle with an apologetic grimace. “I’ve been sent by her Majesty, Queen Regent Octavia Valda. Until I’ve delivered her message to your master, Lord Linby, I’m afraid resting is out of the question.”
Captain Martin’s brown eyes narrowed slightly. “How interesting. I seem to recall hearing a rumor that the Duchy of Bastiallano had transferred to a new mistress. Yet here you are, serving at the beck and call of the old Duchess?”
“Is it your intention to bar my way with such redundant questions?”
“No. No, certainly,” Martin replied with a disarming smile. “But I do believe we’ll make better time if you take a new mount from one of my men.”
Isaac glanced through the barred gate towards the six horses that rested, idly grazing in the shade of several giant silver birch trees. “I’m more than happy to take you up on that request, Captain, so long as it gets me to Lord Linby quicker.”
“Then come down, Colonel. I know just the pair to get us to the Manor.”
True to his word, the inquisitive captain selected a suitable pair of horses and personally escorted Isaac down the well-maintained dirt road which led through a forest of white pines, red cedar, and the occasional chestnut tree.
Isaac did his best to mask his growing fatigue. Since being summoned to the palace by the Dowager the previous day, Isaac spent the remainder of that afternoon and much of the following dusk and dawn-lit hours making his way towards Helmtree and Lord Linby’s estate.
Isaac had met Dax Linby on two similar occasions when he had been tasked to bring a letter from the Queen Regent to the current leader of the remnants of the Frostbite Coven.
The purpose of Octavia’s urgent request had been made clear the moment Isaac set eyes on the rapidly aging monarch. The half-witch had himself felt the sudden loss of Viktor’s magic, though its disappearance had done little to alter his physical state beyond the keen sense that something was missing.
‘The same feeling one gets when they suddenly lose their weapon,’ Isaac mused as the beautiful white walls and silver rooftops of Helmtree’s Manor’s came into view.
Captain Martin guided Isaac towards the main house, where a row of servants appeared to greet them with a tray of refreshments.
“Some water, Colonel?” Martin asked as he tossed his reins to a waiting footman and quickly poured two glasses. “There’s plenty of time for wine later.”
“Thank you,” Isaac replied as he slid stiffly from his saddle. He gulped down the glass of water and returned it to the waiting servant’s tray before turning towards the entryway.
“Just a moment, Colonel,” Martin called out quickly as he stepped forward to intercept the half-witch. “Lord Linby has been unwell since yesterday. Let me make sure he’s up to receiving visitors. You may rest in the courtyard just over there.”
The captain gestured towards a vine-covered pergola with two white marble benches located near a garden fountain.
“I shouldn’t be gone too long. Let the servants know if you require anything.”
Isaac sighed, nodded his acceptance, and watched Captain Martin disappear inside the large Manor. After refilling his glass once more, the Colonel moved to rest upon one of the marble benches where he at least found some relief from the rising sun above.
‘I wonder what ploy Octavia is up to this time. Lord Linby might be a relation, but they were never particularly close, nor do they trust each other. Things must be very desperate for Octavia to reach out in her current weakened state.’
The realities of the empty void where his chaotic magic once roared like a cold brand of fire at his core were not completely lost on Isaac. Part of him hoped to find Lord Linby unaffected, which would mean some part of Viktor remained alive. However, Martin’s comment on the Viscount’s poor health suggested that such foolish hope was misplaced.
‘What does it mean? What happens to the ice witches that followed Viktor? And what of the Duchess?’
Regret twisted in Isaac’s stomach as he left the cool marble bench to restlessly pace towards the water fountain. Without his magic, activating the runes of his sword and rings was impossible.
‘I’m little better than a mortal now. All I have is my physical strength and training.’
Isaac grimaced as he stared down at his reflection, half hoping Lady Larissa’s face might appear so that he could convey his whereabouts and the current situation.
Although Octavia had promised to send word to the Duchy and provide an excuse for his absence, Isaac couldn’t help but worry. It was possible, given how weak and desperate the Dowager had been, that she might act against Kirsi if it meant safeguarding her own life and that of the Frostbite Coven.
‘No. No matter how desperate Octavia may be, she and the coven swore an oath to Kirsi.’
The letter tucked inside the leather satchel slung over his shoulder burned with uncertainty and the bitter memories of the bodies that had been buried to secure the Dowager’s current position.
“Colonel!” Martin appeared through a side door and motioned towards him. “Lord Linby will see you now in his study.”
Isaac tightened his hold on the leather satchel and nodded as he moved towards the captain. ‘I’ll find out what Octavia’s intentions are soon enough.’
***
Lord Dax Linby sat behind a large, majestic desk of rich cherry oak, messaging his temples. His long white hair, normally worn back with style, lay dull and lifeless around the modest robe pulled tight against his narrow frame.
The Viscount lowered his hand at Isaac’s approach and raised his hereditary ice-blue eyes towards the half-witch with the usual look of disdain.
“Ah. Octavia’s loyal dog,” Linby muttered with noted annoyance. “What brings you to Helmtree? Martin seems to believe your business is urgent.”
Isaac studied the hostile Viscount quietly as he opened the satchel at his side. “My Lord. The Queen Regent sent me with an urgent letter regarding the safety of the coven.” The Colonel pulled out the letter, marked with the Dowager’s lily seal, and presented it to Martin, who conveyed the message to his master.
Lord Linby arched a thin white brow as he took the message and quickly broke the seal with the aid of a silver dagger. The appearance of crow lines and dark shadows under the Viscount’s attentive gaze was the only change in his overall appearance that Isaac could detect.
‘He certainly seems weaker but shows none of the sudden aging Octavia went through. I wonder why?’
Isaac quickly dropped his gaze and waited as the Viscount scanned the contents of the letter. A sudden snort pulled the Colonel’s gaze up as Linby tossed the letter down and messaged his closed eyes and cheek wearily.
“I suspected something of the sort had happened,” Linby muttered darkly as his gaze returned to Isaac. “The timing, so soon after Octavia passed Bastiallano off to a complete stranger—it seems Kirsi has returned and created more trouble for us.”
“My Lord?” Isaac blinked questioningly.
“Is it—in fact—Kirsi?”
The Colonel glanced hesitantly towards the waiting Captain. “I—believe so, my Lord.”
“Ha!” Linby shook his head and stared at Octavia’s letter with a twisted smile. “Then Viktor has finally made his choice.”
Not knowing how to respond, Isaac waited until the silence had stretched an uncomfortable length. “Pardon, my Lord. But her Majesty requested that I bring back your written reply—”
“Of course, she did,” Linby interjected with another sarcastic snort.
“Or you, yourself, in person.”
The Viscount’s fine, pale white eyebrows climbed slowly towards his wrinkled brow.
Isaac remained as still as possible, not wishing to provoke a physical altercation, even though he was confident in his ability to best the Captain, who stood but a few feet from him.
“Those were her words, not mine, my Lord.”
Linby nodded slowly as his pale lips curled into a malicious smile. “My ambitious aunt overestimates her power and influence as usual. Yes, I have been stripped of Viktor’s power, as has the rest of our coven, but we are not as powerless as Octavia seems to believe. Nor as desperate—” he tapped on the letter and shook his head mockingly, “—as the Queen Regent has clearly become.”
Another awkward silence built while Linby studied the silent knight before him.
“Do you know what your Mistress is planning, half-witch?”
“I do not, my Lord,” Isaac answered truthfully.
“Octavia would have us abduct the Pope’s sister, the one Duchess Kirsi has taken under her wing, and hand the bitch over to Arius to spark a war between Bastiallano, the Emperor, and the Pope’s bloodthirsty dogs.”
Isaac clenched his left wrist tightly as he fought to maintain his natural composure. ‘So, Octavia wants to start a war to end Kirsi?’
“The Queen Regent means to see an end to Kirsi, once and for all, so that a new god of Frost may be born,” Linby continued as if reading Isaac’s thoughts. “And since we can not act against the Isbrand Queen directly ourselves—my aunt will use Krisi’s common enemies to ruin her.”
‘And start another pointless war.’
“But, Viktor—” Isaac caught himself as the Viscount’s watchful eyes narrowed.
“Yes, Viktor’s decision would imply that he wished for Kirsi to assume his place, but there is no reason to believe the other gods, who have stood in her way all this time, will suddenly step aside,” Lingy observed coldly. “Meanwhile, those of us that remain are sitting ducks to the Pope and other enemies.”
Isaac watched as the Viscount rose from his seat. The pureblood’s movements were slow and cumbersome as if he had not slept in days.
“Octavia has chosen to take the sure bet,” Linby observed calmly. “If we reject Kirsi and push her aside to welcome the birth of a new god’s birth, then not only would we reobtain our powers, but we can also safely rebuild our covens without persecution from the other gods.”
Isaac clenched his fists. There was nothing he could say at this moment that would alter Linby’s or Octavia’s decision. ‘I’m only a half-witch. A disposable tool to them.’ The Colonel’s chest grew heavy as his thoughts returned to the young Duchess he had only met recently. A fearless, selfless leader who worked herself tirelessly for the sake of others, mortal and witch alike.
“Octavia’s plan would likely work. Kirsi has never shown such weakness before,” Linby mused quietly as he turned to face the window behind him. “It would not be hard to convince the coven to choose this path, nor would it be the first time the elders have left Kirsi to fend for herself. Most of them have gone into hibernation in a desperate attempt to save themselves.”
“But—” Isaac ground his teeth as he tried and failed to mask his anger, “—if the plan fails.”
“And Kirsi finally makes herself a god?” Linby half-turned towards him with a sly smile. “Then we would all most certainly perish beneath her wrath.” The Viscount chuckled as he returned to his desk and motioned to Martin. “A glass of wine for our guest.”
Isaac frowned at the purebloods sudden change in demeanor. “Then, have you made your decision, my Lord?”
‘Regardless of whether the elders of the coven have gone to ground—Linby still leads them.’ The half-witch shook his head as Martin passed him a glass, then turned to pour another for his master. ‘Rather than count on Linby to take a losing bet, there must be a way to stop Octavia’s plan. If Hana is the key, I can warn the Duchess upon my return.’
“A toast to immortality and the fickle nature of the gods,” Linby declared mockingly as he raised his glass.
Isaac returned the gesture, then stared at the small glass in his hand before he tipped it back in one gulp. ‘As usual, betrayal tastes bittersweet.’
“I wonder what decision the Colonel would make, were he in my shoes?”
Isaac lowered his glass and arched a brow at the Viscount’s sudden question. “My Lord?”
“You’ve been by Kirsi’s side these last several weeks. What is your opinion of her?”
The half-witch’s grip on his glass tightened as he studied the Viscount’s neutral expression. “The Kirsi I have known is different from the stories I have heard,” Isaac answered carefully. “She is not without emotion, nor completely withdrawn from the suffering of those beneath her.”
“Yes, I heard Kirsi was born to a less than ideal family this time,” Linby murmured as he passed his empty glass to Martin. “But it didn’t take her long to rise and reobtain Bastiallano once more.”
“Once more?”
The Viscount smirked. “This was during the early reign of King Leon before Octavia entered the courts as a royal consort. Kirsi was Duchess of Bastiallano then. She tried to sway the King to break his alliance with Pope Ivan—this was before Emperor Arius rose to power mind. Unfortunately, King Leon was devoted to the church. He even married Lady Lucetta Borghese at the Pope’s request. So the Duchess was stripped of her power and arrested. The knights of Bastiallano revolted and broke their Duchess free from prison—the state of affairs was in absolute chaos.”
“What happened then?” Isaac whispered quietly.
“The Pope and his Witch Hunters,” Linby replied with a bitter smile as he rubbed his chin. “And the Saint’s Holy Relics. They weakened Kirsi’s power. Her knights were annihilated, and she received several mortal wounds. They say she died while still fleeing from the Pope’s army. Her remaining loyal vassals carried her body back to Bastiallano, where it was buried until the Witch Hunter’s dug up her corpse and burned her remains to ensure Kirsi remained dead. They say her body screamed when it was put to the flames.”
Isaac clenched his teeth as the echoes of witches he had burned in the past resurfaced in his memories.
“But those are just rumors spread by the Church,” Linby replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “After all, Kirsi isn’t truly immortal. Viktor’s heart allows her to be reborn as long as a descendent of the Isbrand bloodline remains.”
“But now—”
“Now,” Linby sighed heavily. “Now Viktor is gone, the Isbrand bloodline will end with Kirsi, and our coven has been stripped of its magic.” The Viscount tilted his head and offered Isaac a weak smile. “Sounds like the end times, doesn’t it? So my question to you remains, Colonel. Which side would you choose if you were in my position?”
Isaac swallowed the heavy sensation tickling at the back of his throat. His heavy eyelids blinked sluggishly as he fidgeted with the glass in his hand and fought the fatigue that clawed its way up his weary limbs. “Would I choose to take a risk on the last Isbrand Queen as Viktor did—or forsake Kirsi for the possibility of a safer future under a new god?”
A sad smile graced the half-witch’s face for a moment as soft laughter echoed through his memories. For a moment, the face of Isaac’s three young children flickered behind his eyes.
“If I had a choice, then I would serve the Duchess of Winter.”
Linby arched a brow and blinked in surprise. “Why?”
“Because the gods have never cared about us, mortal or witch,” Isaac spat angrily. “We are simply pawns in their game of power.”
“And Kirsi is different?” The Viscount sounded doubtful as he leaned back against his chair.
“The Krisi I know doesn’t treat people based on their background, magical abilities, or titles. She doesn’t turn a blind eye to those in need, even when helping them means making enemies of powerful nobles. Kirsi may be stubborn, reluctant to trust those who can offer her the most power, while blindly tying herself to those who may become her greatest weakness, but—” Isaac shook the fog from his thoughts as the words poured free of their own accord, “—she would never choose to sacrifice an innocent to preserve her life or her power.”
The half-witch raised his gaze to the Viscount, who regarded him with a curious expression as he pressed a pale hand to his lips.
“You are referring to your children,” Linby murmured with a sympathetic smile. “The ones the Pope butchered to extend the lives of his divine brats.”
Isaac flinched as the small glass shattered between his numb but powerful fingers. The remaining shards slid free and clattered against the wooden floor as he frowned at the small cut against his thumb. “Y-yes.”
“You should sit down, Colonel,” Linby added with a faint smile. “The drug I gave you appears to be kicking in. I must apologize for abusing my responsibilities as your host, but these precautions were deemed necessary given your level of skill.”
“W-what?” Isaac turned sharply to where Captain Martin watched him, with one hand wrapped cautiously around the hilt of his blade. The sudden movement made his vision cloud as the room tilted and spun. “Why?”
“Without our ice magic, even purebloods are all susceptible to poison, illness, and the effects of time.” The Viscount shook free of his bed robe and adjusted the collar of his jacket beneath. “Well—those of us who have not already sworn eternal allegiance to Kirsi, that is.”
The floor rose to meet Isaac’s weakened knees as he stumbled to break his fall.
“Naturally, I shall inform the Earl of Hawthorne of your sudden change of heart,” Linby continued as he circled the desk to face the kneeling half-witch. “But given your history of betrayal, Colonel, I doubt that Percy will be willing to take that risk. At least, not until after the Dowager has been dealt with.”